


It's Never Too Late

by MissMouse1421



Series: Season 13 Codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel has a little PTSD from his time in the empty, Coda, Dean has his angel back!, Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology, Light Angst, M/M, but mostly sweet sweet relief, destiel reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 02:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12695553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMouse1421/pseuds/MissMouse1421
Summary: Understated reunion my ass... Did you SEE that romantic shit? They haven't even made physical contact yet. THEY'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ANY MORE!Contains season 13 spoilers, duh.





	It's Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Understated reunion my ass... Did you SEE that romantic shit? They haven't even made physical contact yet. THEY'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ANY MORE!
> 
> Contains season 13 spoilers, duh.

Castiel found what he was looking for in an old poorly lit ally. He hesitated in front of the payphone, anxiously wringing his hands, unable to keep his feet still. He had considered walking into a nearby establishment and asking to use their phone, but he decided to search for a more secluded area away from any prying eyes. To keep whatever this transpired into a private moment.

He was fairly certain that being confined in a small crowded room would only aggravate his growing anxieties. Just the thought of it set a feeling of unease low in Castiel's gut. 

The angel had no idea how long he had been... _gone,_ but his time in the empty had affected him in a way he didn't know exactly how to define. Outside, at least, he felt like he could breathe comfortably—the static hum of the street lights and gentle _drip drip_ from collected rain water in the gutters overhead lulling him into a state of cautious tranquility. 

It felt so good to see things _exist_ again.

Already he felt a little less out of place, a little less lonely. And that feeling of belonging only intensified when Castiel finally got up the nerve to make the call. The call he had been anticipating and simultaneously dreading since he awoke in that field. The call that would make all of this _real_. Not just his resurrection, but his death as well, and everything that happened in between. 

Castiel wasn’t sure if he’d ever truly understand how this all happened or _why_ this all happened, but he was itching to get back to the one thing that still made sense to him. Back to the one person who somehow made it _better_.

He had memorized Dean's phone number, something that didn't seem particularly significant until this very moment, and Castiel pushed each button into the payphone slowly with an underlining buzz of excitement and _something else._

 _Nerves,_ Castiel deduced. He could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, his pulse racing through his ears as he listened to the ring once, twice, two times too many, until finally, finally Dean picked up.

"Yeah?"

By no means was this the greeting Castiel would have imagined coming from the hunter, had he let himself indulge in such selfish pondering, but my _god_ it was Dean's voice and that meant he was _alive_ and Castiel wasn't even surprised when his vision started to blur and his knuckles turned white from the effort to hold the phone still.

"Hello, Dean."

It came out a whisper, an exhale of those two words, and Castiel could sense the change in atmosphere on the other end of the line. Could practically see Dean's wide eyes and wobbling bottom lip, desperate to believe what he heard was real and not some cruel joke the universe decided to play on him because _they don't get good things._

Five agonizing seconds passed by in complete silence. It was the kind of silence Castiel had grown to expect while he was away—granted, his evil doppelganger hadn’t left him alone for very long, or at least that’s how it felt, time wasn’t a concept in the empty—but now that he was back, it felt terribly oppressive and he just wanted Dean to _say something_.

Castiel shifted his feet on the crumbling pavement below, looked around the dingy ally he had stumbled into, as if anything else could be more important than what was happening right now. It was only to distract him from the stillness of the moment, the weight of it all.

"Dean?" Castiel called softly into the receiver, now adding a hint of worry to the mess of emotions already racing through him. It sounded like Dean was driving. Maybe he had gone into shock.

Castiel could make out another muffled voice in the background that clearly belonged to Sam, and he found himself smiling then, unable and unwilling to hide his elation at hearing the rest of his found family's voice.

"Dean, who is it?" Sam pressed further. At first he had sounded mildly curious, but now he sounded actually quite alarmed, and, oh. Dean must have a _look_ to him now, and a part of Castiel felt robbed that he would never get to see this moment with his own eyes.

Castiel heard Sam question his brother once again before he heard the sound of shuffling clothing and swiping of the phone. "Who is this?" the new voice demanded.

"Sam," Castiel let out an almost inaudible sigh—finally he could get some real interaction. "It's me. It’s Castiel. I'm… back."

"Cas..?" 

Sam's recovery from the initial shock was much quicker than Dean's, and despite the obvious suspicion in his voice, Sam diligently took note of Cas’ directions, and soon enough both Winchesters were on their way to meet him.

It was harder to hang up than Castiel had expected, but the promise of something more gave him that final push to click the payphone back into place, to trust what he had built with the Winchesters—what he had built with _Dean_ —could withstand any trial or tribulation they collectively had to suffer through. 

Sam and Dean were coming to get him. He was almost _home._

Castiel heard it before he saw it, the familiar grumble of the impala’s engine steadily moving towards him. He could almost feel the warmth of her headlights, burning through the back of his new trench coat, grounding him—a familiar caress welcoming him back.

Two doors closed. Footsteps cautiously approached.

Every molecule in Castiel’s body was electric as he slowly turned around to face them. He saw Dean first, and then he _only_ saw Dean—the world already fading out from around him, because Dean was looking at him with such disbelief and fear and _hope_ and how could anything else possibly matter?

This moment was theirs. After everything they had been through, they had earned it.

“Is… is it really you?” Dean sounded _wrecked,_ and just like that, Castiel found his new mission. Jack was a priority, yes, but ultimately, _it was all about saving one human_.

Castiel’s throat closed up on him—wouldn’t trust his voice not to crumble even if he could talk—so he forced a nod instead. It was unclear who made the first move. The two of them collided into an embrace, all gripping hands and watery _you son of a bitch_ with an even more broken _I thought I’d never see you again_ thrown in at the end.

Dean buried his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck and let himself sag completely into the angel’s strong, capable arms. For the first time in weeks, Dean felt like he was truly living and not just going through the motions, an empty shell of a man beaten down by the world around him. For the first time in weeks, Dean felt _happy_.

Because _Cas_ was his win. And this time, Dean was going to tell him.

**Author's Note:**

> Funny thing is I wrote most of this before the episode aired. Like I said, the writes don't give a fuck anymore lol. They're practically writing fanfiction at this point.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


End file.
